


The clothing maketh the Dark One

by HelveticaBrown



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Season/Series 04 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan, newly minted Dark One, has a problem. A problem that she believes only Regina is qualified to help her solve. Post season 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The clothing maketh the Dark One

**Author's Note:**

> This is total crack that I smashed out in an hour. Apologies for the extreme stupidity of it.

* * *

“Emma!” Snow threw her arms around Emma, sobbing noisily and messily. “You’re back. And you’re not evil. I’m so glad.”

Emma felt the breath being knocked out of her as David joined in on the hug. And then what little breath she had left was stolen from her by the overpowering stench of rum and unwashed pirate. Hook had clearly forgotten about daily bathing without her there to remind him.

Emma cringed. A group hug with her parents and her pirate was not high on her list of things to do. She had far more important tasks to complete, like taking over Storybrooke, and then the world. She narrowed her eyes evilly and broke out of the hug.

Snow peered at her, a concerned look on her face. “Emma, sweetie. Do you have something in your eye?”

*****

Regina was woken by strange sounds coming from the kitchen. At first she thought it was Henry; he’d been eating a lot lately with the growth spurt he was going through. She waited a couple of minutes for the familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs and in the hallway. When they didn’t eventuate, she pulled on a robe and tiptoed her way to Henry’s door. When she pressed her ear against it, she could hear the soft sounds of his snores. She snuck downstairs, determined to surprise whoever was foolish enough to break into the former Evil Queen’s house, readying her magic as she went.

She pressed herself against the wall adjacent to the kitchen, preparing to ambush the intruder. As she did, she heard a voice.

“Hey, Regina. You can come out now.”

She stepped into the kitchen, taking in the scene. “Emma? It’s two in the morning. What on earth are you doing here?”

Emma mumbled something that Regina didn’t quite catch.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I was looking for inspiration. No one’s taking me seriously. Snow keeps saying how glad she is that the Dark One’s power didn’t stick.” Emma kicked her heels against the kitchen bench, looking entirely like a sulky adolescent to Regina’s eyes. “Why doesn’t anyone believe that I’m evil?”

“Oh, I believe you’re evil, Emma. You’re sitting on my kitchen bench, eating my secret stash of Valrhona chocolate.” Regina’s expression took on an entirely more outraged cast. “And is that my 1963 Armagnac you’re necking out of the bottle like a college kid at Spring Break?”

Emma shrugged and looked at the label on the bottle.

“At least have the decency to sip it slowly out of a glass. At three hundred dollars a bottle, it’s meant to be savoured.” Regina snatched the bottle out of Emma’s hand and poured a measure into each of the two glasses she’d pulled out of the cupboard. If she was going to have to endure this conversation, she might as well get some pleasure out of it.

Through a mouthful of chocolate, Emma mumbled, “It’s not fair. No one believes that I’m evil. I’m the Dark One, damn it. You know, big scary evil. Killer of armies. Toppler of monarchs. Stealer of babies. Eater of hearts. Etcetera.”

“Have you actually done any of those things?”

Emma frowned. “Well, no. Not yet. I’m just warming up. It’s like running. You can’t just go out and decide to run a marathon. You’ve got to work your way up to things, like with a couch to five miles program. I’m on the prophesied saviour to ultimate evil program at the moment.” She screwed up her face. “I really wish there was an iPhone app for it. It’d make things so much easier.”

“Have you actually done _anything_ evil yet?”

Emma looked pensive. She started counting on her fingers, and Regina rolled her eyes impatiently. “If you have to think that hard about it, then you probably haven’t.”

“No, wait. I made the fairies do the Thriller dance in the middle of the main street for three hours.”

“Amusing, but not really evil.”

“I turned Hook into a cat.”

“Definitely a public service. He’ll probably bathe a little more often than once a year now.”

“I trained him to hunt bluebirds and leave them on the doormat of Snow’s apartment.”

Regina snorted in an entirely undignified manner. Just because she and Snow had made peace with each other didn’t mean that she couldn’t enjoy imagining the expression on Snow’s face, when confronted with the tiny corpses of her avian friends. “That’s a very small start in the right direction. But you’re not going to convince anyone like that.”

Emma’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, so I’m still working up to it. Like I said, you’ve got to walk before you can run. But there’s a really wicked-looking dagger with my name on it. Surely that’s got to count for something.”

Regina sighed. “Fine. It’s the clothes. No one’s going to believe you’re evil when you’re wearing plaid. They might believe you’re a lumberjack… or a lesbian. In which case, the three people in Storybrooke who voted against marriage equality might think you’re evil, but otherwise…” Regina shrugged.

Emma pouted and Regina mentally smacked herself to try and dislodge the thought that was taking up residence in her brain. The Dark One was actually kind of cute in an ineffectual way.

“It’s just not fair. I mean, you’re essentially good now, but people are still kind of terrified of you.”

Regina placed a soothing hand on Emma’s thigh. “Listen, dear. If it’s really this important to you, I can help you out.” She waved a hand, and a card appeared between her fingers. She held it out to Emma. “This is my stylist’s number. He’ll fix you up.”

“Thank you.” Emma grabbed Regina by the shoulders and kissed her hard on the mouth. Just as Regina started to enjoy the kiss, Emma disappeared, leaving Regina feeling entirely unsatisfied. _Now that was evil._

*****

Regina was woken for the second night in a row, this time by the overly-excited Dark One bouncing up and down on the end of her bed.

“Regina! Regina! It worked! Snow saw me and burst into tears.”

Regina reached over and switched on her night light. The first thing she noticed was Emma’s hair. _Platinum blonde. Ugh._ She could understand why Snow had burst into tears. She should have called Vincenzo and given him a little bit of guidance to avoid this travesty. Or maybe he was losing his touch, because Emma looked entirely too much like she’d just stepped out of the pages of an Anne Rice novel. It had been a while since she’d used his services. Now that she thought about it, there was that terrible side-pony he’d convinced her to wear back in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma was still bouncing around, and Regina sighed with exasperation. “Really, dear? This couldn’t have waited until morning?”

Emma shook her head. “No it couldn’t. Because I’m evil. That means I don’t play by the rules.” She said that last part with all the pride and conviction of an eight-year-old naming the planets in the solar system.

“Of course, dear.” Regina sighed and lay back down, pulling the covers up to her chin. Maybe if she ignored the Dark One, she’d go bounce somewhere else.

“So what do you think?” Emma struck a dramatic pose on the end of Regina’s bed, showing off the structured black trench-coat she was wearing.

“Very evil, dear.” She bit back a laugh when Emma toppled over, clearly unused to the height of her heels. It was important to remain encouraging. “The collar is particularly dastardly.”

Somehow, Emma managed to recover from her mishap with a tiny amount of dignity intact. She slinked her way up the bed, coming to hover just above Regina’s face. “You know what else is evil about this trench-coat?”

“No.” Her breathing hitched and she could feel her heart beating hard and fast. Even with a bad dye job, Regina still found Emma alarmingly attractive.

She suppressed a shiver as Emma leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “I’m not wearing anything underneath it.”

Just as her brain had fully processed Emma’s statement, the Dark One disappeared. Regina felt a hint of moisture at the corner of her eye. She was so proud. That was at least an orange-belt evil manoeuver.

Yes, she certainly was proud, but she was also frustrated. She didn't have the dagger, but she was damned well going to try this anyway. “Emma Swan. Dark One. I summon your evil ass right now.”

A moment later, Emma appeared in exactly the position she’d been in before she disappeared, but without the trench-coat.

Regina smiled.


	2. Evil isn't born, it's trained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't going to do this, but then I tripped over a tiny, malnourished plot bunny, fell and hit my head on my keyboard. The bunny died, but this happened. Hope it's not entirely terrible.

* * *

Regina thumped her fist on the bed in frustration. This was the third time this week that Emma had disappeared right when Regina had been on the brink of orgasm. She’d been doing that incredible thing with her tongue and Regina had felt the pleasure building, and building and then nothing. The last two times Emma had reappeared a minute later and put her out of her misery, but this time she seemed to be taking a lot longer.

Regina was not known for her patience and after a couple of minutes had passed, she reached down, determined to finish the job herself. Except, when she tried to touch herself, she couldn’t. Her hand stopped, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t actually make contact. She reached for the vibrator in her nightstand, with exactly the same effect. Emma Swan had dark-magicked her vagina.

“EMMA SWAN! I swear if your evil ass doesn’t reappear right now...” She left that threat unfinished; she’d learned that the imagination was far more terrifying than anything she could dream up. A moment later, Emma reappeared on the end of the bed, grinning and holding a piece of paper, apparently unconcerned at the prospect of Regina’s rage.

She looked at Regina’s hand (and the vibrator), frozen in space, and shook her head. “I wasn’t finished.”

“Neither was I, and that’s the problem,” Regina growled.

Emma smirked. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m in training, and evil never apologises, you know.”

“Trust me, Emma, if you try that again, you _will_ be sorry.”

Emma beamed proudly. “That manoeuver got me 400 points; enough to hit the next level.”

She waved the piece of paper in front of Regina’s eyes. It had a pixelated cartoon image of a trophy and a dagger on it that looked like they’d been sourced from Microsoft Clip Art circa 1993. There were also a couple of lines of text that read, “ _New Evil Achievement Unlocked: Orgasm Denier.”_

Regina incinerated the certificate with a tiny, tiny fireball, thinking to herself that she’d shown admirable restraint by incinerating _only_ the certificate. The English language didn’t have a word that could adequately capture the degree of frustration that she was feeling right now.

Emma pouted. “Why would you do that?”

Regina ignored the question. She had other, far more important, things on her mind. “Emma, I swear, if you don’t finish what you started, I _will_ find a way to kill you, immortal evil or no.”

Lying in bed afterwards, Emma was playing with her phone, much to Regina’s irritation. She wasn’t exactly the cuddliest of creatures, but she rather liked a little bit of post-sex snuggling. But for the past few minutes, Emma had been steadfastly ignoring her attempts to initiate some light spooning.

“I understand that you’re evil, Emma, but that’s just rude.” She waved a hand, and the phone flew out of Emma’s hand and into her own.

“Hey! I was in the middle of something.” Emma made a move to snatch her phone back, and Regina held it out of her reach.

She looked at the screen and raised her eyebrows. “Oh my god. You actually found an app?”

“No.” Emma sounded disappointed. “I looked for ages, but apparently it’s a pretty niche market.” She shrugged. “So, I got Henry to make it for me.”

“You got our son to build you an app that includes categories like _Orgasm Denier_? What were you thinking?” Emma didn’t exactly have the greatest track record when it came to good judgment, but _this_? Regina was genuinely surprised.

Emma looked at her as if she was particularly slow, and Regina bristled a little. “Of course I didn’t. He just built the framework. I developed the categories.”

“And how did you decide on these categories of Evil Achievement?” Regina was curious, because Emma hadn’t come to her looking for ideas, and as far as she was aware, she was Emma’s only Evil Mentor.

“I held a focus group.” Emma looked smug. “I got points for that because market research is inherently evil. And I served Fluff and dill pickle sandwiches on rye bread for refreshments, which was pretty much the most disgusting combination I could think of. I got bonus points because two people had to leave the room to throw up. And then I kept them all just long enough that their parking meters ran out. Parking tickets all round.” She grinned proudly. “I am absolutely slaying at this evil business.”

*****

Regina, Emma and Henry were in the middle of a lunch date at Granny’s. The evil makeover had definitely done its trick, because only a quarter of the occupants of the diner gave Regina side-eye, while the remaining three-quarters looked at Emma suspiciously. Time was when everyone would have looked askance at her, and half of them would have run home, locked themselves in and boarded up their windows. _Ah, the good old days._

At the next table, a couple of the dwarves were discussing Game of Thrones. Storybrooke’s Internet service had just been improved enough to make streaming video a reality and half the town seemed to either be holed up watching television or talking about it incessantly.

Regina noticed the evil glint in Emma’s eyes and watched her as she sidled up to the table, next to Grumpy.

“Ned Stark dies, you know. End of the first season. Joffrey puts his head on a pike and everything. And then in season two…”

“Noooooo. I will not be tricked by your evil, lying tongue. Get away, Dark One.”

Grumpy clapped his hands over his ears and started screaming shrilly to block out the sound of the Dark One. He ran out of the diner and Emma made her way back to the booth, grinning. She high-fived Henry as she slid back into her seat.

She pulled out her phone and typed something in, before pumping her fist in excitement. “Yes! Spoiler Master, 100 points!”

Regina rolled her eyes. “What other terrible deeds have you committed recently?”

“I pressed all the buttons in an elevator and got out at the first floor.” Emma held up her hand, and Henry high-fived her again.

“Nice work, Dark Mom!”

Emma thought for a moment. “I switched around the contents of all the hair dye boxes at the pharmacy.”

“That was _you_? It took me hours and a _lot_ of magic to fix my hair. I had orange stripes.”

Honestly, Regina was beginning to find the whole Dark One business rather wearing, but Emma seemed happier than she’d been in a long while. Finally released from the burden of expectation, she was apparently revelling in her newfound freedom. And after everything, Regina really couldn’t begrudge her that.

“You dye your hair?” Emma seemed genuinely surprised, and Regina preened for a moment until she remembered why she had to dye her hair.

“Well, I didn’t have to until you showed up in Storybrooke.” Four grey hairs. One for each year of stress that Emma had caused her.

Emma pulled out her phone again. “Awesome! Stealer of Youth, 200 points.”

A little while later, Emma wandered off to another table, having spotted another opportunity for evil.

“So, you seem to really like Emma as the Dark One. You’ve been bonding with her over training and apps.” Regina couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous. When she’d been evil, Henry hadn’t even wanted to know her.

Henry shrugged. “I’m just trying to be supportive, Mom. I really regret how I treated you when you were still evil and I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

Regina felt a smile blooming. “I’m so proud of you, Henry.”

His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “But seriously, Mom. It’s the worst. I haven’t eaten a vegetable in five days, unless you count French fries.” He struck a pose in his seat, vaguely reminiscent of the ones Emma had been practising. “Because, _evil doesn’t eat its vegetables._ We had burgers _without_ salad for dinner last night. The night before that we ate bacon sandwiches with no bread and extra bacon. It was kind of cool at first, but now I’m worried I’m going to get bowel cancer. And she keeps packing me Fluff ‘n’ pickle sandwiches for lunch.”

Henry had such a look of distress on his face that Regina could feel her heart breaking. “Oh, my poor dear boy.”

He continued. “And I’m so tired, Mom. She keeps making me stay up to play video games with her, because _evil doesn’t have a bedtime._ I fell asleep in class yesterday. And she set my homework on fire, and I got a detention because my teacher said I was lying when I said that the Dark One destroyed my homework.”

He noticed Emma looking over at them, and he contorted his face into an expression that was more grimace than smile, while giving her two thumbs up. When it was apparent that Emma wasn’t looking anymore, he turned back to Regina.

“Mom, I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Regina had been patient with Emma and the whole learning to be evil business, but if it was affecting her son, well, she couldn’t just sit back and let that happen. Something needed to be done.

While they’d been talking, Granny had emerged from behind the counter, crossbow in hand. Customers in the diner parted like the Red Sea as she stormed across the floor to where Emma was posing evilly. Regina frowned. This would not end well.

Granny pointed the crossbow at Emma’s chest. “Dark One, you can stop harassing my customers. And while you’re at it, you can settle your tab. Four hundred and seventy-two dollars and twenty-three cents. I expect it paid in full by tomorrow.”

Emma disappeared for a moment, before reappearing on top of the bar, striking a pose. “Evil doesn’t pay its bills.”

“That’s it, Dark One. You’re banned.” Granny discharged her crossbow. The bolt clattered into the menu, passing through the space Emma had occupied a moment ago.

Regina and Henry looked at each other and spoke at the same time. “We have to fix her.”


	3. True Love's Kissing Booth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. This one is marginally less silly than the previous two - it's more absurd than humorous. Also, apologies in advance to any Nickelback fans, but really, you should know better.

* * *

Regina had hoped that it would be possible to curb Emma’s evil impulses, and for a time it had seemed that love, support and vigilance would be enough. But then, Emma had hijacked Storybrooke’s only radio station and broadcast Nickelback songs for 48 hours straight, until they’d managed to tear down the broadcast tower. It had taken an enormous toll on the town and it was in that moment that Regina had finally understood the depths of depravity that the Dark One was capable of. No one could hope to be safe as long as the Dark One was allowed to run free and unchecked, and Regina had found herself in the unusual position of being approached by townsfolk begging her to save the town. And so, she had set out to find Merlin and to find a cure.

Merlin had proved to be relatively useless, but he had clued her in on an ancient text that might hold details of a cure. The resulting quest had been long and arduous, and Regina felt a sense of unparalleled exhaustion in both her body and her soul. She had missed Henry desperately, and she had even missed her evil idiot of a girlfriend, if she could actually call her that. Truth was, they’d never really talked about what they were, and during the long months of her trek through realms and through time, she had wondered often whether there would be anything left of the Emma she’d known by the time she returned home. And there were times she wondered whether success on her quest would ensure that there would be nothing left of Emma for _her_ , whether it was simply the darkness that had allowed Emma to defy expectations to be with a former Evil Queen.

But now, she was back in Storybrooke and she couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. She had the cure: a potion made of a hair from the tail of a unicorn, a feather from a gryphon, a petal from a flower that only bloomed once a year during a full moon and could only be found on the peak of a mountain guarded by a three-headed ice-dragon, one of Maru the Scottish Fold’s whiskers, two of Kristin Bell’s tears when confronted with a sloth, and a single crumb from the legendary beautiful cinnamon roll. Not even the ultimate darkness should be able to withstand such goodness and purity.

She headed straight for the Charmings’ loft, and felt a little balm on her weary soul at the sight of her son. Henry grinned, and with a cry of, “Mom”, he enveloped her in a hug. He was taller than her now – she almost had to stand on tiptoes to rest her chin on his shoulder – and she wondered what else she’d missed in the time she’d been away.

After a while she looked past him, searching for Emma.

“Where’s Emma?”

Henry shrugged. “Last I checked she was in her evil lair.”

“Evil lair?” Regina raised her eyebrows incredulously.

“Yep. Evil lair.” Henry let out a longsuffering sigh.

Regina followed Henry into the apartment and couldn’t help but notice the elaborate pillow fort in the middle of the living space. She seriously hoped it was part of some game with baby Neal, but knowing Emma, there was very little chance that this was anything other than what she suspected. “Is that…”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Yep. That’s Mom’s evil lair.”

Regina pulled back the makeshift door that she was rather displeased to discover had been made out of one of her 1200 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. It was empty, except for a random assortment of action figures. She picked up Captain America and the Hulk, who were tied together, and stared at them quizzically. She looked over at Henry, who shrugged.

“She likes to practise her evil plans before she carries them out. Says that evil is never unprepared.”

Regina wondered if she was too late, if the darkness had irretrievably bound itself to Emma’s soul. “Now I really am worried. Normally, Emma can barely plan far enough ahead to put her socks and shoes on in the right order. Henry, what’s happened since I left?”

“So many terrible things. It would take me too long to explain them all.” He shook his head gravely, and Regina worried that her son had seen too much, been forced to grow up too quickly.

“And how’s Emma?”

He shrugged. “Evil. She hit level seven on her evil training program a couple of weeks ago and she tried to think up a new evil catchphrase to celebrate. The best she managed was: _a swan can break your arm, but a dark swan can break your heart._ ”

Regina cringed. “Please tell me she didn’t stick with that.”

“No. I talked her out of it.” He smiled grimly. “It could have been worse. The original cut was: _a swan can break your arm, but a dark swan can break both your arms_. Thankfully, that one failed at the focus group stage.”

“I see that she still has her father’s gift for words,” Regina said dryly. “I’d have thought that the centuries of dark knowledge occupying her brain might have improved matters somewhat, but apparently not.”

Henry brightened a little. “Her evil laugh is actually getting quite good, though. I mean, she still goes through a pack of lozenges a day, but it’s better, you know. I actually saw one of the dwarves run away from her in fear the other day.”

“So where is she now?” Regina was eager to try the cure as soon as she could.

Henry shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I think Grandma might have been planning something big today in the centre of town. There’s been a lot of unrest since you’ve left.”

*****

Regina frowned as they approached the main street. “Is that my Mercedes parked over there?”

“Um, yeah. Emma started driving it after you left. Vincenzo said that she needed a proper evil ride if she was going to be taken seriously.”

As she got closer, she realised that her plates had been replaced with personalised plates. She rolled her eyes. _DARK1. Astoundingly creative._ Then she noticed the hideous decal on the bonnet and the food wrappers in the front seat. She felt tears well up. Her beautiful, immaculate car had fallen victim to the darkness. She pointed at the decal and turned to Henry. “What is that?”

“That’s Mom’s logo. Vincenzo told Mom she needed to enhance her visual branding, so she hired a graphic designer to develop one.”

Regina realised she’d seen the graphic on various buildings throughout the town as they’d approached the main street. “And why is it on half of the buildings we’ve walked past?”

“Part of her masterplan to turn Storybrooke into Swantown.”

When they hit the centre of town, Regina thought to herself that everyone in Storybrooke must have turned out for this. Regina took in the scene before her and shook her head. She couldn’t believe that Snow had actually done this. Well, she could, but she really didn’t want to.

She walked up to Snow, who was holding a microphone and standing under a banner. “Pimping out your daughter? Really, Snow? How very classy of you.”

Snow managed to completely ignore Regina’s snarkiness. Her face lit up and she pulled Regina into a rather unwelcome hug. Regina managed to return the hug, but she couldn’t help the twitch that manifested in her left cheek.

“Regina, you’re back,” Snow breathed. “Does this mean…”

Released from the hug, Regina took a step back and folded her arms. “I hope so, but I won’t know until I try it out.” She pointed at the banner and then over at Emma. “Explain.”

“You were gone so long, and we had to try something. The first two attempts with Killian didn’t work, so we thought we’d throw it open to the whole town.” Regina couldn’t help but notice the signs of exhaustion on Snow’s face and she felt a moment of sympathy, even if she didn’t agree with her methods.

Regina walked past a long line of townsfolk and made her way over to where Emma was sitting and cleaning her nails with a nasty-looking dagger, an expression of total, unmitigated boredom occupying her face.

“You do realise that being evil doesn’t preclude you from getting manicures.”

Emma looked up slowly, eyes tracking a tortuous path up Regina’s body, a look that Regina recognised from the many times she’d used it on other people. “I’ve been doing my research. It gives me an air of danger and unpredictability.” She tossed the dagger into the air, clumsily attempting to catch it and instead nicking her thumb. Despite the mishap, Emma continued to look her over in that disconcerting fashion, before she jumped to her feet and threw her arms around Regina.

It was strange to feel this small and underdressed next to Emma; it was like they’d traded costumes. Regina’s flat, sturdy boots and Emma’s precariously high-heeled boots gave Emma a significant height advantage that Regina found that she finally didn’t mind. She’d spent all of Emma’s first year in Storybrooke torturing herself wearing the highest heels she owned, just to secure that precious one-inch advantage. But shortness also had its advantages; among other things, her new perspective allowed her to fully appreciate the impressive Evil Cleavage that Emma was sporting. This really was some of Vincenzo’s finest work, Regina reflected.

“Hey, wait your turn. There’s a queue and you just jumped it.” Regina felt a hand on her arm, and she turned, outraged to find Hook standing behind her.

“Unhand me, you filthy pirate!” He didn’t, and Regina readied a fireball.

Emma rolled her eyes. “You failed twice already, Killian. Evil doesn’t have time for incompetence.”

Regina tried and failed to stifle the thought that people in glass houses should not throw stones. But Emma said it with such unselfconscious irony that Regina couldn’t bear to shatter that illusion.

“I did fail.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “But I’ve realised that my approach was wrong, because who says that True Love’s Kiss has to be on the mouth?”

“Gross.” Emma waved a hand and Hook’s mouth disappeared. “Oh well. Looks like you’re disqualified.”

Regina was impressed, in spite of herself. Emma’s evilness and comic timing had certainly improved during her absence. “I thought you said that you turned him into a cat.”

Emma shrugged. “Snow finally realised that the mangy, three-legged stray she’d feeding for months was Hook. She commanded me to change him back. But enough about Hook.” She smiled, and for a moment Regina was reminded of the woman Emma used to be. “So, I’m assuming that you’re here to try curing me. Just so you know, if _you_ fail, I’ll definitely give you more than three attempts.”

Regina didn’t have a chance to respond, because Emma was already kissing her and all that she could think was that she _had_ missed this. She allowed herself to enjoy the moment for as long as she could, while she still could. The cure was going to work and Emma would remember who she was and who Regina was. She’d go back to plaid and denim and dating socially acceptable people, like mass-murdering pirates and world-hopping thieves and flying monkeys.

Emma broke the kiss and grinned at her. “Still evil. I just thought of an amazing plan to take over the world with an army of velociraptors. You want in?”

Regina smiled and shook her head. “I was just warming up. Let me try again.” This time, as Emma’s mouth met hers, Regina didn’t hesitate to pull out the vial of potion and pour it over Emma’s head. And it worked. She knew it without looking, without asking. She knew it the instant that Emma’s lips turned from firm to hesitant. She pulled back, and she could read the confusion and uncertainty on Emma’s face.

“Regina?”

Regina smiled tightly and took a step back, melting into the crowd as Emma was engulfed by her excited family, friends and well-wishers.

*****

Regina squinted sleepily at the clock on the nightstand. It was after two and there were strange sounds coming from downstairs. She sighed heavily. It had been months since she’d slept in her own bed and she was seriously displeased to be woken prematurely. She made her way downstairs and followed the noises to the kitchen. She walked through the door to discover Emma Swan perched on her kitchen bench, eating ice cream straight out of the tub. Emma Swan, who was still looking darkly alluring, clad in leather pants and a corset.

“You weren’t at the party tonight,” Emma said, her eyes and her words languid with the alcohol Regina presumed she’d drunk.

“You know me. I don’t like parties.” She really didn’t, and the idea of attending this one was less appealing than most.

“Neither do I and I like them even less when you’re not there.”

Regina frowned. She was sure that she wasn’t hearing Emma correctly, unless... “I was so sure that the cure worked. But...” She gestured at Emma’s outfit.

Emma shrugged. “It did. I don’t actually have anything else to wear. Vincenzo made me burn all of my old clothes. I need to go shopping tomorrow, but for tonight, it was this, or borrow some of Mom’s clothes.” Emma shuddered. “I committed some unspeakable crimes, but surely none so terrible that I would deserve a fate like my mother’s wardrobe.”

That truly would be cruel and unusual punishment, Regina reflected. No one deserved to be forced to wear fuzzy pastel-coloured sweaters. “So what are you doing here, Emma?”

Emma intently studied the spoon she was twirling in the tub as she spoke. “Eating ice cream. Hiding from my parents. Seeing if you’re still talking to me.” Emma looked up as she said that last part, catching Regina’s eyes with her own. “I know I did some pretty messed up things and I’m sorry.”

Regina felt a small tendril of hope bloom in her chest. She closed some of the space that lay between them, but still maintained a respectable distance. “Of course I’m still talking to you.”

“Even after what I did to your car?”

Regina sighed. “She needs some love, but she’ll be alright.”

“And while you’re in a forgiving mood, I should probably mention that I flooded your bathroom when I tried to raise an army of genetically-engineered psychic squid in your bathtub as part of my ingenious mind control plan.”

“I’ll forgive you for that too, on one condition.”

“Name it. Anything,” Emma said, her tone brimming with sincerity. She jumped off the bench and took Regina’s hands in her own.

Regina knew in that moment that it was going to be okay. She smiled and said, “Can you please keep these pants?”


End file.
